Sarah Says

Class is starting Wednesday for ECU students, and as relieved as I am to finally be done with the boring lectures and hours of homework I’ve got to admit that I kind of miss it. My last semester was filled with sleepless nights and jam packed days, as I worked two jobs and took 18 hours and I loved every minute of it.

If you were to ask any of my friends they would probably say that I’m telling a boldface lie, but it’s true. As much as I complained about being overworked, underpaid and completely burnt out – I was having the time of my life.

I spent every minute outside of class hanging out with friends, eating out and sleeping in. Now that I am a part of the “real world” that people have been telling me about for years I find myself spending most of my time outside of work simply laying in bed watching TV. To be quite honest, after working 40 hours a week I just don’t have the energy to do anything but rest on my days off.

As students began moving back into Greenville this weekend and I watched my younger sister move into a dorm on campus I couldn’t help but feel a bit nostalgic. As my first summer in the “real world” begins to wind down I’ve been thinking about how different my life has become within a three month span. Things haven’t gotten better or worse, just simply different. It’s strange how one day you are living one life and in the blink of an eye you are living a completely different one.

I decided to make a list of the things I’ll miss most about college/ECU life. Here it is:

>Knowing that one of my friends is awake at any hour of the night and willing to take a trip to IHOP or McDonalds.

>The East Carolinian (the campus newspaper): After working at the newspaper for three years the editorial board ended up feeling more like family than friends. I miss late nights in the newsroom eating peanut butter M&Ms or chocolate pretzels, downing Diet Coke and watching Dane Cook skits on YouTube in an effort to laugh to keep from crying.

 >The squirrels that scampered across the walkways as I rushed to class.

>The long walks across the campus mall on days when a light jacket, jeans and a t-shirt were the perfect attire.

>The chimes at the entrance of Joyner Library.

>The Bate Building. I got lost in that building at least 3 times every semester I spent at ECU.

>Walking through Uptown Greenville and stops at The Tipsy Teapot.

>Friday and Saturday nights at Five 19.

>The huge chocolate chip muffins from Java City.

>Rocking ECU hoodies on a daily basis because they make up about 50 percent of my wardrobe.

>Going to class in pajamas with nothing but a pen in hand.

>Digging through my wallet in search of quarters for the parking meter. I can’t tell you how many tickets I ended up getting during my four years of college.

>Barefoot on the Mall

I was browsing through Barnes and Nobles about a month ago and I ran across the book “Killing Yourself to Live,” by Chuck Klosterman. I decided to buy the book since I enjoyed Klosterman’s collection of essays titled “Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs.” Klosterman chronicles his 21 day road trip across the United States in a quest the examine why death can be the greatest career move for a rising rock star. Along the way he manages to make some pretty interesting observations about love and life. I thought I would share my favorite passage. Here goes….

“We all have to potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It’s easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven’t even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it always happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these lovable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. You will remember having conversations with this person that never actually happened. This is because the individual who embodies your personal definition of love does not really exist. The person is real, and the feelings are real - but you create the context. And context is everything. The person who defines you understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.”

I am finally moving into my new apartment tomorrow. That means pretty much nothing to most of the population, but for me it means a fresh start. I have no clue why, but I feel like this move is going be the refuge I’ve been looking for. After living in a tiny, dimly lit apartment for the past two years I’m dying for an atmosphere, new neighbors and a new drive home.

 It may be a few days before my next update since I’m not quite sure how the Internet connection will be in the new place.

I’ve been feeling pretty BLAH lately. It happens to everyone at some point or another. It’s strange how my friends always seem to do/say the right things when I’m not feeling quite like myself. I don’t have to tell anyone, but somehow it seems like they just know.

I woke up this morning and made my usual dash to the bathroom to brush my teeth before checking my e-mail. When I finally logged into my g-mail I had a Facebook wall post from my friend Burdetta that read “sarah dearest….I love you. How sweet.

Around noon I got a call from Cat and one of the first things she said was that she missed me. Yet another touching sentiment.

Last night Charlotte and I were searching for a movie to watch and she suggested Center Stage. I know this doesn’t seem like an act of love/kindness, but Charlotte doesn’t really enjoy movies like that. However, she does know that I love that movie.

So, I just want to thank all of these lovely people for putting a smile on my face. You all rock more than you know.

I’ve been packing and cleaning my apartment in preparation for moving , which means I’ve fallen behind on posting new entries, but the past week has been pretty interesting.

On Monday, Charlotte introduced me to my latest soulmate of the moment. The man who happened to win my heart was a contestant on Jeopardy who explained that the suit he was wearing was salvaged from the trash and had in fact never been dry cleaned. I realize to some woman this revelation would be a complete turn-off, but I deemed him eccentric and the rest is history. So here he is….

I think the mad scientist hair and the cheesy smile are selling points as well. So for the moment he is pretty much the man.

Early Thursday morning I was woken up by a number of people touring my apartment. My current roommate works as a leasing agent for our apartment complex and deemed a visit from complete strangers as an appropriate way to start the day. Gahhh. I was completely annoyed that my slumber was interrupted by the slamming of kitchen cabinets and the endless Q&A session. What a way to ruin perfectly wonderful dreams.

Friday night as I sat in my living room sipping a glass of wine and watching a movie with Charlotte I got a text from P. Those that don’t remember P is the man that made me his substitute person for the evening when all the rest of his friends were out of town. Of course it was the usual question - what are you up to? Apparently the guy doesn’t know how to take a hint since I’ve barely acknowledged his existence since our last incident. We texted back and forth for a few minutes, but I let him know that I had no intention of meeting up with him that night. Even after giving one word answers and basically shooting down every suggestion of us hanging out he ended the exchange with - call me sometime when you are free. Get serious. I guess I’m just going to hang on to this grudge a while longer.

I will be updating more this week since the bulk of my moving fiasco will be over by Thursday. I have to say that leaving the place I’ve called home for the past two years is going to be more bittersweet than I originally anticipated. I’ve spent the past week packing away memories and remembering the times that I spent laughing, dancing, singing, talking and crying with friends that today feel more like family.

Cue the music that personifies passion, obsession, ecstacy and dare I say love, you are about to experience a first kiss with a man that you’ve been dying to lock lips with since the moment you met.
—–Stop the music—-

If you’ve ever experienced truly bad kiss you know exactly what I’m talking about. The sky is blue, the grass is green and you are just so into this man that it doesn’t occur to you that this stud might not have the necessary skills to make you swoon.

Almost every woman I know would probably argue that a bad kiss doesn’t mean anything when it comes to relationships, but in my opinion a bad kiss could be the beginning of the end. In my experience once I’m been the victim of a bad kiss, I’m not usually willing to take another stab at it. Maybe it’s not fair. Maybe it’s vain. Whatever it is, I just can’t fathom the idea of puckering up for another disappointment. Sometimes it’s best to just cut your losses.

There is just something fantastic about a great kiss that I’m not willing to sacrifice no matter how perfect the man in question may be. A good kiss makes your knees weak and your heart race. On the other hand, a bad kiss feels awkward, forced and infinite. A good kiss never seems to last long enough, and a bad kiss can feel like it lasts an eternity.

In the end, the question on my mind is when does a bad kiss become a deal breaker?

It recently occurred to me that I’m a substitute person. You know the person that someone is with because the person they are really dying to be around is unavailable for some reason. I usually don’t mind, in fact there are a good amount of substitute people that play supporting roles in my life as well. But what drives me crazy is when people don’t even try to hide the fact that you’re a substitute person rather than a leading lady.

 Example:

The other day my friend P called and wanted to know what I was up to. I replied that I was busy doing laundry and catching up on some reading. Of course, the conversation went on for a few minutes and I asked him what he was doing. His response was pretty typical, he didn’t have many plans for the evening so he wanted to see if I felt up to the idea of coming over to watch a movie and hang out. Now this isn’t anything new for the two of us, in fact we used to hang out pretty much every weekend. But after I graduated in May and got a “real job”  here at The Free Press I don’t have nearly the amount of free time that I used to. P and I have drifted apart and it’s been almost a month since we’ve seen or spoken to one another. Since we haven’t been hanging out, I naturally assumed that he was just spending more time with his friends. I didn’t think that I was completely irreplaceable though. The conversation continued and I realized that the friends he had been hanging out with were out of town. Apparently, I wasn’t his first choice. Not that I expected to be, but he certainly didn’t have to let me know that. In this instance, I’m not so sure that honesty was the best policy. 

Needless to say, I didn’t go over to hang out with P that night; I decided that my time would be better spent alone. I didn’t make the decision not to hang out with him because I was mad that I wasn’t his first choice, but it didn’t help the case either. Whenever all of my close friends are busy, I certainly don’t call up some of the other ones and say “let’s hang out because you are the only choice I have.” Maybe I’m being too sensitive about the situation, but I guess sometimes the leading lady simply just can’t fill in as a substitute person. I ended up spending the night with my roommate, Charlotte, playing Trivial Pursuit and eating French fries. It ended up being the perfect way to spend my Friday night.    

What attracts us to someone? Most of us like to think it’s something dignified like their passion for politics or their ability to articulate a conversation that lingers long after parting ways. I usually like to think that I’m attracted to men that treat me well, listen to what I have to say and take the time actually get to know me, but when I think back over the past year this isn’t always the case.

I know the idea that you can’t choose who you are attracted to seems to be a cop out in some instances, you know a way of saying “well I just couldn’t help myself,” or “you can’t control who you fall for.”
But the reality is that we tend to fall for the same type of people over and over again. Each breakup that we experience allows us to reflect on the relationship, therefore giving us the opportunity to decide what qualities we can/can’t live without.

In the end, I’m not so sure that the people we fall in love with are meant to be in our lives forever. On the contrary, I believe that people actually spend most of their lives looking for Mr./Ms. Right Now. It’s not so much about who you are with, it’s more about the timing.

Each phase of life brings with it new emotions, experiences and ideals, which means our definition of “the one” is constantly evolving.

I’m just not so sure that there is one person for all of us. It’s hard to imagine one person that satisfies all of our needs. As we continue to change I think it’s unreasonable to believe that love is all you need when it comes to relationships. Over the span of a lifetime who says there can’t be more than one Mr. Right?

After arriving home tonight my roommate and I decided to make dinner and watch a movie together. This is nothing new for the two of us, in fact, it is practically a ritual. Of course, the greatest challenge of the night arose when it was time to pick a movie to watch. After searching through both of our DVD collections, we ended up watching Tyler Perry’s Why Did I Get Married.
I have to admit that I was weary of this movie at first. It didn’t seem like what I was craving at the moment, but I decided to give it a chance.

Mere minutes after pressing play I knew that we had made the right decision. I found the movie to be the perfect blend of romance and heartbreak without venturing too far from the realm of reality. For those of you that haven’t seen the movie here is a link to a review I found on the New York Times Web site that will give you a bit of a plot summary.
http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9F00E1DB173FF930A25753C1A9619C8B63&scp=2&sq=why%20did%20i%20get%20married&st=case

Check it out.

The term ambush date may be foreign to your vocabulary, since it was indeed coined by one of my dearest friends, but the concept at hand is likely something that everyone either has experienced ,or will experience sometime in the future.

Some may be wondering what exactly I consider an ambush date, so let me explain. My definition of an ambush date is when you make plans with a friend only to realize that your friend isn’t quite on the same page that you are, in fact they are under the impression that the two of you are going on a date.

I was the victim of a nerve-racking ambush date a while ago. Luckily, I made it our without ruining my friendship or making a complete fool out of myself. In hindsight I should have seen the attack coming, but I guess I just had eyes wide shut.

Below is a brief account of my ambush date. If it sounds like familiar situation to you, let me know. If it hasn’t happened to you yet, eventually it will.

I didn’t realize that an ambush date was in the works until my friend called to see if I wanted to ride to the movie theater together. I wasn’t sure what I was planning to do afterwards, so I let him know that I would just meet him there. At this time, I was still under the impression that I was just hanging out with a friend. The idea of a date with this man never crossed my mind, until I showed up at the theater wearing jeans and an old t-shirt with a hoodie in my hand, only to find my friend dressed to impress.

Now, at this point I should just go ahead and start calling this man my date, because somewhere along the way the line between lover and friend obviously became blurred. I can’t recall the exact moment that he decided to venture outside of the friend zone.

At this point there was no turning back, I had to put on a smile and pretend that I thought we were just hanging out like any other occasion. I knew I was lying to myself, but I just couldn’t bring myself to participate in this charade of a date. I could tell he was nervous by the forced conversation that took place outside of the theater.

The intensity mounted when we reached the ticket booth and I insisted on buying my own ticket, despite his efforts to purchase both tickets. I knew that if I gave him an inch he would likely take a mile, and I couldn’t risk giving him any false hope.

After a bit more awkward conversation, it was finally time to take our seats in the theater. I immediately pulled down the armrest between us to keep things from becoming too awkward in case he tried to hold my hand. He immediately knew that the jig was up.

For the next two hours we sat side-by-side in complete silence. The usual whispering between us didn’t occur, and I could tell that he was disappointed with my behavior. As we were leaving the theater I began to reminisce about old times, and before I knew it we were laughing and talking just like we always had. In an instant things went from being sufficiently awkward to amazingly fun.

As he walked me to my car, our banter continued and I knew that our friendship was still in tact despite the disappointment that was written all over his face. When I began to open the car door I could tell there was something he needed to say to me, but instead he decided to let things go unsaid. Before getting into the car I flashed him a smile and we shared a hug. I knew things would never be the same between us, but I wasn’t ready to let go of our friendship just yet, so I didn’t.